Duty or Devotion
by Drakeling
Summary: Cullen x Solona. Post-Blight; Solona is called back to the Circle of Magi by the Knight-Commander but what could he possibly want now? **Chapter 3 added!**
1. Chapter 1

Devotion or Destruction?

Post-Blight. Solona Amell heeds a call from the Circle of Magi…

***Bioware and their affiliates own Dragon Age, I envy them.***

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Chapter 1: Epilogue turned Prologue  


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The journey back to the tower had been a rehearsal; she'd tried to envisage the best way to pass through those doors and address her former peers and friends. The last time she'd been there the circumstances had demanded an auto-pilot response and so there was no time to worry about impressions or greetings. What had mattered was saving that tower before Greagoir called for it to be wiped out like a stain.

The docks were no longer a dot in the distance, she was almost there and the realisation was more than daunting. She wanted to throw up.

How would everyone look at her? _She's so dangerous, she killed an Archdemon: there's nothing we can do to stop her_. She had dreamt such things in the Fade; people fearing and hating her for what she had done. Of course most of Denerim were elated; she was a hero there having saved the day and ushered in the rule of another Theirin king.

Now all that was left was to rebuild her own life, with or without Alistair. Thoughts of him did nothing to improve her dampened spirits.

_You're just coming down from the high of life as a Grey Warden during a Blight_.

Wynne had told her that this was some form of 'post-Blight depression' and that she'd get over it and want to move on with her life soon enough. That was 3 months ago. Then, the letter had come from the Circle of Magi calling her back at the behest of the 'Knight-Commander'.

"Okay, enough Solona… Looking at the Tower doesn't mean you'll get inside."

She walked, slowly, towards the ferryman and was delivered to the shore on the other side within half an hour. The large, solid anti-magic doors greeted her with a familiar, solemn greeting. She was _home_ again. With a deep breath and a determined step forward; she passed through the doors and in to the Circle once more.

[Main entrance]

Surprise. That was the first thing that filled her, perhaps even shock, Greagoir was not there to greet her. It wasn't even the lack of Greagoir that was the truly shocking part; it was the fact that Cullen was standing there in the full garb of a Knight-Commander. Yes, that was what the shock was; Cullen was now the Knight-Commander of the Circle of Magi.

"Cullen…" she said, soberly as thoughts and memories of the time before swamped her.

The look in his eyes suggested that he was suffering the same emotions and flashbacks as she but from the perspective of a mage-hating Templar "Solona." His voice was restrained, curt. No more stuttering.

"You… are the Knight-Commander of the Circle?" she thought to the letter; signed from the Knight-Commander and not Greagoir "Where is.. Greagoir?"

"Dead." He said, with a twinge of pain "Died in the winter."

"Oh." She couldn't quite say she was sorry for his loss, but she couldn't besmirch the memory of the man either.

"Denerim called for me to take up the post." Cullen was watching her carefully, she wondered what he was thinking; to slay or not to slay perhaps?

"I… see." She had no idea of what to say, _congratulations_ seemed hideously inappropriate given that he was now in a position of power and given the last things he had said to her; that could be dangerous. She dipped a hand in to the pocket of her robes and drew out the letter "You sent this?"

"Yes." He nodded, when she continued to stare at him he finally elaborated "First Enchanter Irving also died, a week or so after Greagoir had passed."

That news nearly floored her, she folded her arms and looked up at the stone ceiling "O-Oh…" she bit her lip "I… see."

"Do you require time to come to terms with this news?" Cullen seemed overly formal, too restrained as he watched her with a hawk-like stare.

"No… I think it would be best if you told me why you called me here. Surely not to give me such news face-to-face…" she was starting to have the _sinking_ feeling that had served her well on the field of battle.

"Yes… You are right. It was not to simply deliver news face to face." He shifted, folding his arms and then unfolding them "I have asked you to come here to.. to take the role of First Enchanter." the first break in his perfectly restrained composure – a stutter that she remembered.

That faint glimmer of _her_ Cullen was promptly brushed aside by the end of his sentence; **take the role of First Enchanter**! She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it and closed it once more. Thoughts spun inside her head like a maelstrom. Was he _serious_ about this idea? Finally she managed to whisper "Wh…What about.. Wynne..?"

"I felt it appropriate to ask you; everyone hails you as the Leader of the Grey. Your exploits are well-known across the land. Stopping the Blight, slaying the Archdemon, how you saved Amaranthine and many more I'm sure… it seemed logical to ask you." His eyes were the colour of antique amber and they were watching her every reaction.

Once more she opened her mouth, only to close it as she thought. Was this his way of _flattering_ her? Saying that he had followed her exploits and that he had confidence in her abilities? Part of her wanted to ask but she usually didn't listen to _that part_. Realisation hit her as he watched her quietly; the matter was unresolved "Me? First Enchanter? It… sounds strange."

"I found the idea of being Knight-Commander strange." He glanced to the side "I still do. Doesn't feel real…" the amber gaze settled on her again "Perhaps it would be prudent of me to give you an evening to rest and consider this proposal? We could… speak more in the morning, if you wish."

_Uh… uh, yes. Maybe we can talk another time._ She longed to hear him say that to her, instead of these controlled words; _prudent_… _consider_.

"Yes… We can talk another time." She whispered, tiredly.

"I will show you to a guest room." He motioned and she followed.

The room was familiar, probably because she had led Duncan to the very same room at the beginning of her 'life' as a Grey Warden and a 'mage proper'. Yet the interior had been changed; probably scrubbed to within an inch of its life after the abominations had struck. Yet she knew the room despite the new furniture and layout. Cullen had left her with a nod and a formal "Good evening" and she was stood alone just wishing she knew what to do with herself at that moment.

_I think I need some rest_.

She walked to the bed and laid on it, waving out the candles over head with a silent whisper of magic. She closed her eyes and tried to calm the bubbling chaos inside herself; she hoped the morning would bring her some clarity…

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End of Chapter 1

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What will happen at breakfast...?

- Drake


	2. Chapter 2

Devotion or Destruction? 

A boiled egg war is so tempting right now…

***Bioware and their affiliates own Dragon Age, _lucky_!***

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_Chapter 2: Proposal_

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_There were no windows in the guest room, she noticed because her skin was almost begging for natural light when she awoke. At first she was bewildered; _where in Ferelden is this?_ For a moment she considered that she might be in a Dwarven Thaig and that Darkspawn were outside chattering away about spells and Templar's.

Then realisation hit her along with embarrassment; she was in the Circle of Magi, _obviously_, and those were mages outside her door on their way to breakfast. That also explained the lack of sunlight: the second floor was devoid of windows in case any mages became desperate enough to leap out. From this height they might just survive and that would be no good at all.

With remembrance came a flood of memories of the evening before and her return to the tower and the subsequent shock bomb that was dropped from _Knight-Commander Cullen_. He had asked her to become the First Enchanter of the Ferelden Circle, to replace Irving. It felt like blasphemy; who could possibly replace Irving? Certainly not her, sure she killed an Archdemon but that did not require any level of diplomacy – that required fighting to the death and living on desperation.

"… Ugh. First Enchanter Solona…" She felt like somewhere out there, Jowan was laughing at her. Her stomach growled, reminding her that it had been a long time since she last ate.

_Maybe after breakfast things will make sense!_

She was starting to see a pattern; how long before some random every-day-event actually did provide her with the clarity she hungered for? However, her musings were cut short by a gurgling whine from her stomach. She complied with the wishes of the gut and made her way to the 3rd floor for breakfast.

[Dining hall]

The hall was grand like Solona remembered and yet it seemed to be distinctly lacking in ambience. There were less bodies fighting for food and those that were there seemed so restrained, almost scared. Then she saw the source of their nervousness; Knight-Commander Cullen was in the room. She swallowed thickly, wondering whether he would instantly ask about the _proposal_ of the night before.

She walked across the room, noting the hushed whispers of her identity; the _Hero of Ferelden_ and the few knowing looks of peers she had left behind who knew her better as the _rogue mage that aided a Blood Mage_. Curiosity and condemnation, in the same room and a sobering reminder that she would have to work extra hard if she were to try and lead the circle toward any kind of future.

"Solona." It was Cullen. She heard the clank of his armour as he approached.

"Knight-Commander…" she addressed him, with a nod, before looking to the food.

"I trust you slept well?" he replied, in a dreadfully formal tone.

"Yes the bed was comfortable." She felt like one of the noble women she had seen at the Landsmeet, responding with restraint for fear of losing 'face' or standing in the eyes of others. She had sworn that it would never be her; she would never live such a life because it was not her. She was not a restrained noble; she was a mage who had been torn from normalcy a long time ago. A smile crept of her lips "However, I was plagued by very strange dreams."

"Strange dreams?" He rose a rust-coloured eyebrow "What do you mean?"

_I can't believe I'm going to say this…_ she thought with grim excitement "Well… I dreamt that you and I were having wild se—"

"_Y-You're the Hero of Ferelden aren't you?_" a voice squeaked at her side.

Solona blinked, vaguely aware that Cullen was starting at her as though she had just grown a second head, but her focus was drawn to the mage at her side; a young boy no older than eight was gazing up at her with equal measures of fear and awe. She nodded slowly "Yes… I am Solona and I've been called that by a few people."

"Woooow!" he grinned widely, visibly impressed "You… killed an Archdemon!"

Solona nodded "I had help."

"I um. I was dared by my friends to come and speak to you, my name is Julian… Bye!" he dashed back to a small group of children, their faces were filled with fascination as the boy recounted his conversation.

Solona turned back to Cullen, who was still gawping "Um what were we talking about?" _she knew full well_.

"The proposal." He said, clearing his throat and steeling his gaze "From yesterday. Have you had any thoughts on it?"

_There was a time when you would have surely ran away after hearing me say such a thing._ She mused sadly but she knew that both of them had changed, they had been tempered by the events of the blight. She couldn't hold Cullen's current distance against him, the acts of Uldred had shaped his views quite strongly and he was no longer the 'naïve boy' he had once been – _his own words in fact_.

"Oh yes." She murmured "**Your **proposal to me." Was that a faint blush on his cheeks? _Surely not_.

"Well?" he asked.

"No… Unfortunately my _strange dreams_ last night made me completely lose my chain of thought with regard to First Enchanterships." She looked up at him "But I did mean to say that my 'exploits' are not a sign that I would make a good First Enchanter. Are you sure that you would want to have to deal with me everyday? Argue with me over the way that mages are treated?"

"If I have to do such things with anyone… Better for it to be you." He murmured "I am sure you will do what is best for the Circle, what you believe to be best as you always have."

"Oh…" she looked down at the plateful of food she had been given "… Thank you, then, for the vote of confidence. Would you… care to join me for breakfast, Knight-Commander?"

"I cannot. There are matters that require my attention. I trust you remember where Greagoir's office was?" she nodded "I will be there, if you wish to discuss matters further."

"Very well. Until later, Knight-Commander." She replied.

He nodded at her and turned to walk off, the moment he left there was a visible slumping of shoulders from every single mage in the hall followed by the dim rumble of murmurs and whispers and conversation. She sat down at an empty table with her plate, suddenly she did not feel so hungry…

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End of Chapter 2

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_Strange dreams of you and I making wild templar-mage sex in my tent_ – **that's** what Solona wanted to say! Perhaps she should have asked him to lick a lamppost with her?

- Drake


	3. Chapter 3

Devotion or Destruction? 

Sorry for the absence; I'm afraid it's likely to get worse now that Fable 3 is out in the UK! I'll try to update but it may not be as frequent as it was previously!

***Bioware and their affiliates own Dragon Age, _I want Dragon Age 2_!***

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_Chapter 3: A decision  


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_One, two, three deep breaths_. She stared at the wooden door, carved with runes and the flaming Sword of Andraste. This was the Knight-Commanders office and a place that all mages tip toed around and avoided as much as possible. She vaguely remembered Anders saying that the Knight-Commander's office was the second room that he frequented the most – the first being the cafeteria.

The very door simply ached with anti-mage feeling; the runes were there to ward and drain mana and ensure that all mages that entered were at a distinct disadvantage. She understood the necessity, but she still considered it gratuitous.

_The longer I stand out here, the weirder it's going to look!_ Solona was vaguely aware of the Templar that had now been glancing at her uneasily for the past 5 minutes. She stood there, staring at the door as if it would some how answer all of her problems.

In the end she had not eaten much of the breakfast her stomach had begged for; instead she had poked and moved pieces of food around until the mages on clean-up duty prized it out from under her fork. It was stone cold anyway, so she didn't particularly miss it.

Then she had spent a few hours procrastinating in the library – partly reminiscing but mostly procrastinating. Finally, after a great dealing of sighing and resistance, she had made her way to this _forbidden_ corridor of the Circle. It was the space where the Templar's trained, bathed and ate out of the sight of mages. It was the place that apprentices wondered and told terrible stories about.

"… Now or never..." she muttered to the door, steeling herself as she rose her hand and rapped on the door three times.

Cullen's muffled voice responded "Come in."

Solona gripped the handle, crafted in to a dragon's head, and entered the room "Knight-Commander." She said, looking to him as he sat behind Greagoir's vast desk.

"Solona." He nodded and motioned to the chair opposite him "Please, sit down."

She did as he asked and sat down, her eyes glanced around the room at the shelves of books and the sacred Chantry-relics. A statue of Andraste, a book of the Chant and even a bottle of fine Chantry wine from Orlais; such wine was often drunk during Chantry-approved holidays.

Cullen cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him "So. I assume you have come to talk, yes?"

_What else would I have come for?_ She wondered, tempted to ask the question but it was _that part_ telling her to say it so she ignored the impulse. Instead she nodded "Yes, I suppose I cannot avoid the matter."

"And?" he was watching her, there was an amber intensity to his eyes.

"And what?" she replied, dumbfounded "I don't know how to answer that kind of _proposal_, Cullen. You say that you believe I am able to be a First Enchanter yet I haven't even been a Senior Enchanter. I have no idea how the Circle works; not the politics. Not dealing with Templar's and the general clerical work… I…. I.." she sighed heavily "I may be good for killing Archdemons and ending Blights but I did that with a lot of help and without any need for diplomacy or finesse!"

He smiled, a slight quirk of his lips, then he sat back in Greagoir's impressive oak chair "I see…"

"Um… that's it? I spill my guts and 'you see'…?" her eyebrow rose. Was he _mocking_ her?

"I thought you would probably shy away from the idea, I expected an outright no to be honest…" the smile faded.

"Well… what now?" she replied, slightly irked that he had 'expected' her to shy away. She wanted to stand up and slam a hand on the desk and say _I'll do it!_ but that would be foolish and impulsive; everything a First Enchanter was not.

"What indeed." He nodded, his voice maintained the distant control that she had gradually become used to since she arrived at the tower. "I stand by what I said; I believe you would use your judgement and do the very best you can for the mages."

"But is my best really good enough for them?" she asked, frowning.

"The fact that you are so troubled for them and what is in their best interests is reason enough for me to believe that it really would be good enough." His gaze was almost piercing. "I believe that you can make a difference to this Circle."

"You… believe in me?" it made her cheeks faintly warm to hear him say something so endearing; it may have been in his formal controlled voice but the words were full of encouragement. _He, Cullen, believed in her and that she could make a difference_. Surely, that was enough to give this a try?

"I do."

"Alright." She glanced at he nervously "Alright… I'll… I'll give it a shot." Suddenly she felt like Alistair; _giving_ _**it**__ a shot if she would_.

"Very good." Cullen said with a nod of satisfaction "I am sure you will be an asset to the mages and the Circle, Solona."

"…I hope so." Part of her felt numb, was she really going through with this? It sure looked that way, she was starting to wonder if this was some bizarre fade-hallucination. Still, the handshake he gave her felt _too real_ and so did the coolness of his armour.

She left his office in a daze, walking through the halls towards the guest room he had shown her to the night before. She needed to lay down, at the very least she needed to close a door over and do _something_ – scream, punch a pillow, burn a rug… She walked in to the room and closed the door behind herself, propping a chair up against the handle.

She turned to face the bed and just stared at it blankly, her mind was racing and yet she couldn't grasp the thoughts or make sense of any of it. She was Solona Amell and she was the First Enchanter of the Circle of Ferelden.

Cullen said that there would be some formalities, a ceremony and that she'd have to make a speech. That alone was bizarrely terrifying; a _speech_? She usually left that sort of thing to Alistair or **anyone** but herself. Suddenly the realisation struck her like ice cold water; she was going to lead a collective of mages through a precarious future whilst attempting to negotiate a working relationship with the Templars; with Cullen.

Suddenly she felt very, very dizzy and nauseous. It was as if the weight of the situation had finally found her and bore down from above. She laid on the bed, staring at the grey stone wall and all she could think was; _How am I going to do this?_

The question occupied her mind fully until sleep claimed her and forced her to forget the constant wondering – _Maybe __**tomorrow**__ morning will make everything clearer…_

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End of Chapter 3

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Like I said above; sorry if I seem to be a bit inactive for the next few days: got Fable 3 to play! :'D

- Drake


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